


Starting Over New

by athena3062



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1943112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena3062/pseuds/athena3062
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mysterious stranger shows up at Emma’s apartment, her whole world is suddenly turned upside down. Set immediately after 3x11 Going Home. </p><p>“You want the truth? Here it is: he’s Captain Hook and he came to New York so I could rescue my parents, who happen to be Snow White and Prince Charming, from another evil curse that may or may not involve the Evil Queen.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Written just for entertainment. The characters (and some lines borrowed from 3x12) aren’t mine, but no infringement intended.

_"I thought you felt as I did."_

"I don't know you," she retorted. 

"Swan!"

"Get out of here before I call the cops." Emma slammed the door in his face, clicking the locks with a steady hand. She touched her lips with a shaking hand. It was impossible, but for the briefest moment, she thought she recognized him.

\---

Emma’s feet pounded against the concrete as she ran through Central Park. After walking Henry to school, unable to forget her bizarre morning, Emma had cancelled her only appointment. She’d hoped the run would clear her mind, turning automatically towards the park. The running paths were empty, but nearly six miles later, she hadn’t forgotten his crestfallen expression.

She moved left to pass two women jogging together.

 _“I thought you felt as I did.”_

Emma couldn’t get his words out of her head, teasing the edges of a forgotten memory, like something from a dream. He looked crushed, leaning against the wall, fingers pressed against his lips. It was the reaction of someone who had been let down and disappointed. But it was impossible – she couldn’t disappoint someone she had never met.

Emma rounded the corner quickly; nothing about the morning’s encounter made sense. She slowed beside a water fountain and leaned down for a drink. Her damp shirt clung to her lower back. Emma straightened slowly, the back of her neck clammy. 

She tugged her phone from the armband around her left bicep and checked the time. Eleven forty; plenty of time to finish the rest of the park loop. Emma replaced the phone and yanked her ponytail tighter, prepared to resume running.

"Swan!" 

Emma glanced over her shoulder. It was the same guy from earlier – still wearing the leather pants and too many rings on one hand. "No way.”

He crossed the grassy hill quickly, leather coat billowing behind him. This guy needed a fashion update or directions to the nearest movie set. “I need to speak with you.”

She had his right arm pinned behind his back, bent over the back of a bench, before he could say anything else. "I told you, leave me alone or I call the cops." He struggled against her grip. "Understand?"

"You're making a mistake," he retorted. Under other circumstances he would have teased her, but the damp wood was rough against his chest. He changed tactics. "Try something new darling."

Emma opened her mouth, ready to refute such a ridiculous idea, but his next words something stirred in her memory. 

"It's called trust."

She could feel phantom impossible sensations crowding into her reality: his arm tight across her lower back, hand tangled beneath her hair, rough stubble against her cheek. Her palms tingled, fingers suddenly cold against his wrist. She released him roughly. “Give me one good reason not to punch you in the face.”

He rounded to face her, “I have proof.”

Emma put her hands on her hips. "Two minutes. You start making sense or I scream and you can explain everything to the police."

He scowled and pulled a piece of paper from his coat. "Go to this place and you'll understand."

She glanced at the unfamiliar address. The handwriting was from another world – dark slashes and deliberate flourishes – the kind of letters formed by hands comfortable with fountain pens. Another mystery to consider. Emma’s cheeks darkened. She was too old to be swayed by a dark-haired stranger with endless lines. “This is crazy. You should be in jail."

"Come on lass, where's your sense of adventure?"

She knew too much to believe he was telling the truth, but Emma couldn’t move away. Shadowy impressions teased at the corner of her mind.

“I know you feel it.”

Her ponytail swung back and forth. “What? Loathing?”

He chuckled, “I’ve missed you Swan.”

Emma crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows raised. “Kind of impossible, don’t you think?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “you can tell something’s wrong.”

An unfamiliar ache settled in her chest. “You’re a liar,” she replied automatically.

“Then why haven’t you thrown that away?”

She glanced at the paper clenched tightly in her fist. "I don't know what your game is, but I'm warning you..."

"You'll shackle me to the nearest post." He held up both hands in surrender, “I’m at your mercy.”

"Meet me there in an hour." Despite her frustration, Emma couldn't stop herself from noticing the way his eyes brightened at her words. "And don't look at me like that. It doesn't mean anything."

He scowled, "of course not."

Emma turned on her heel and jogged away slowly down the path. Hook stared until she turned down a path and out of sight.

\----

Sunlight cast uneven puddles of light on the floor when Emma entered the apartment. Immediately the window across the room drew her attention. She closed the door quietly, sliding her tools back into her purse, heart suddenly pounding. The edges of the dream catcher had been faded by the sun. "Neal," she said dully. 

Emma pulled out her cellphone and began to snap photos, turning slowly to capture as much as possible. In the kitchen, an old-fashioned camera case was abandoned on the table. She slipped her phone into her jeans. “What the hell?”

She picked up the camera, its strap unfurling as she lifted. Her mouth was suddenly dry. On the strap was a leather tag with Henry’s name on it.

The apartment door swung open. She shoved the camera into her messenger bag, disbelief turning quickly to anger. "You're late," she growled. He had tricked her into coming to this apartment. It wasn’t coincidence (not destiny or fate); it was another one of Neal’s cons.

Hook kicked the door closed with his heel. "Hello Swan."

She had him pressed against the door before he could say anything else. "How do you know Neal?"

Hook struggled against her arm. "I don't."

"Then why are we here? This is his apartment."

“You remember?” He smiled hopefully.

Emma wanted to punch him. “He has a camera with my son's name on it. I want answers."

Hook grabbed her elbow, upsetting the balance between them, and sent Emma stumbling backwards.

She glanced around the apartment, looking for anything she could use as a weapon if necessary. Nothing. He stood between her and the door, but she could go out the window.

"Perhaps Henry left it here.”

Emma backed up slowly, moving into the center of the room. “Not possible.”

“What will it take to convince you?"

"A miracle." She circled Hook warily.

“Use your superpower love. See that I’m telling the truth.”

Her phone was in her pocket; she could call the police and leave him to be arrested. “Just because you believe something, doesn’t make it true.”

“Dammit Swan!”

Emma froze, unable to shake the overwhelming feeling of déjà vu, pulse thundering in her ears.

"I know you love. You're an open book.”

“Really?” She fingered her necklace absently.

“You’re an orphan. It’s haunted you for your whole life."

"Lots of people know that."

"Really? Do they know it’s a lie?”

“It’s not,” she retorted, her fingers cold against her throat.

“What about your blanket? Doesn’t that make you wonder who your parents are?”

The sinking feeling in her stomach was unbearable. Emma licked her lips quickly, "who the hell are you?"

"Killian Jones." He bowed slightly. 

She crossed her arms defiantly and took a step towards him. “I think you’re a thief. And a liar.”

His face broke into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I’d prefer dashing rapscallion.”

"Forget it, I don't have time for this." Emma moved towards the door but Hook grabbed her arm. "Let go," she snapped.

"Not until you listen." 

Emma shook her head quickly, "no, I'm done." 

He released her arm, pulled the blue vial from his vest and extended it towards Emma. “Answers,” he explained.

She scowled, “I won’t take it.”

He grinned, suddenly confident. "Yes you will, love."

Emma took the bottle quickly. "Don't call me that." She removed the stopper, closed her eyes and drained it in one swallow. It was thicker than it looked, coating her tongue and tasting vaguely of peppermint. Emma swallowed, stumbling backwards as a jolt coursed through her body. She opened her eyes and he was still standing with his right hand outstretched.

She exhaled slowly, lips twitching into a half-smile. "Hook."

He smiled broadly, "did you miss me?"

She shook her head, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly. "You're..."

"More handsome than you remember?"

"Impossible," she finished.


	2. Chapter 2

The bar was nearly empty; thankfully they were on the opposite side of Neal’s building. Emma’s head was pounding, fake memories and real memories at odds like two electric guitars screeching for her attention.

Emma placed her beer on the table. "So what the hell’s going on?”

His left hand, still in the leather glove, tapped the table. "Your family's in danger."

"Yeah, okay. But how are we supposed to get to the Enchanted Forest?"

Hook frowned, "they're not in the Forest."

"They’re in Storybrooke? What happened?"

He took another swallow from his beer. "If I knew that Swan, I wouldn't be here."

Her forehead creased. "How did you get here?"

"Shouldn't you be more concerned with them?"

Emma shook her head, "alright, fine. Is it a curse? Do they know who they are?"

“Don’t know, wasn’t there.” Hook’s glass was nearly empty.

"You weren't?"

Hook scowled, "no. I parted ways soon after we returned."

Emma’s ringing phone interrupted her questions. She retrieved it from her bag, frowning at the display. She tapped the screen and turned away from Hook, one hand over her ear. "Hey. No, it's fine...no, I can't...Listen, we need to talk…Yeah…No, I can come to you....Okay. See you." She put the phone down on the table with a heavy sigh. "How long's it been?"

"Three hundred and eighty-seven days." Hook leaned across the table, "was it the same here?"

She nodded slowly, "I think so. More or less." Emma toyed with the edge of her phone, spinning it absently. "I was seeing someone."

When he didn’t answer, she began to clarify, but Hook cut her off. “I can gather its meaning," he interrupted harshly.

Emma's forehead wrinkled. "Good," she replied, matching his tone. "Because that was him. The real guy who doesn't know anything about all this crap."

“And?”

She slammed her glass down. "I have to talk to him."

"To say what?"

"I don’t know!” Hook opened his mouth to protest, but Emma wasn’t done. ‘My memories aren't real, but he deserves an explanation."

"I see." 

She climbed off the barstool, swinging her bag over her head. Halfway across the bar, she realized Hook wasn't following. "Are you waiting for an invitation?" she called over her shoulder.

He moved faster than she anticipated. “Lead on."

She pushed open the door. The sunlight made her eyes water. "This way," Emma said, turning left.

They moved purposefully down the sidewalk. She clenched her hand tightly around her shoulder strap, avoiding any accidental contact with Hook's hand. They approached the curb as the light went red. 

"Wait here," she said. 

Hook stopped beside her and looked up at the street signs, "your roads have strange names."

Under different circumstances Emma might have told him about the history of New York. When the light changed, Emma plucked at his sleeve with her hand, "come on.”

Three blocks later, they reached the subway entrance. 

Hook stared dubiously at the stairs leading beneath the sidewalk. “What sort of passage is this?”

Emma laughed at Hook's expression, "change of plans. We'll catch a cab."

"A cab," he repeated. “Is it a beast?”

"Vehicle. See the yellow ones?" Emma asked, pulling him away from the subway. “That’s a cab."

She left him on the sidewalk and stepped into the street, one arm raised.

Hook leaned forward to better see what she was doing. "Ah. And you're signaling one?"

"Hailing," she corrected. When the traffic light changed, she saw a cab pulling over at the top of the block to let someone out. "Here we go," she said, reaching for Hook’s hand. 

The cab pulled in front of them and Emma yanked open the door. "Get in," she told Hook, practically tugging him into the backseat. He settled himself on the leather bench seat. Emma told the driver their destination.

"Close the door." She gestured at the metal handle. He leaned out of the cab, gripped the handle tightly and pulled. When the door slammed shut, the cab pulled into traffic, sending Hook toppling onto Emma. She pushed him back gently.

Emma looked out the window blankly as the cab wove through the streets. Her phone chirped.

Hook looked down at her bag, “what was that?”

Emma pulled her phone from her purse. “Henry,” she replied. Her fingers flew over the screen. "He's done with school.”

Hook watched in fascination. The phone buzzed again and Emma repeated the series of taps. “How does it work?”

Emma looked up from the phone. “Umm it's like magic. But we call it technology."

"I don’t understand."

"There are these little pieces of metal, in here," she shook her phone in his direction, "that connect to other chips, with radio signals...you don't even know what that is. Dammit. Go with magic."

Hook shrugged, "I shall." He turned his attention back at the city outside his window.

The trip was faster than Emma hoped and too soon the cab pulled to a stop. Hook watched her pass unfamiliar papers from her pocket through the partition. "This is it," Emma said, poking his knee, "open the door."

Outside the cab, Hook looked up at the five story building, "this is his home?"

"No. He's at work." She gestured at the display window. “See?”

Hook stepped closer and peered inside. "What sort of work? Carpentry?"

Emma shook her head; she could feel the beginning of a headache forming. "It's a furniture store." He turned towards the door, but Emma touched his arm. "You're not coming in," she said. "I can meet you somewhere after." 

Hook snorted in disgust, "not likely. You're more apt to go out the nearest window."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, "wrong fairy tale."

He touched her shoulder with his right hand. "Swan."

“I'll be quick."

"Crushing one's hopes often is."

"Oh don't do that," she complained. "Don't act like this is easy for me."

Apparently satisfied, Hook nodded. "Then what are you waiting for lass?"

Emma pushed open the door, the bell over the entrance jangled loudly. "Here goes nothing."

\-----

Emma shifted from one foot to another. She spoke quickly, her mind turning over the months she had spent with Walsh, as she wove excuses together. He was a nice guy, normal and steady, who got along with Henry. But as she stood in his shop, Emma knew she couldn't tell him the truth - the memory potion had stripped away any illusions about a world without magic, a world without her complicated family.

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she finished, "but I have to go."

Walsh clenched his hands in tight fists at his sides. She turned towards the door but had only taken two steps when Walsh let out an inhuman snarl. "You shouldn't have listened to him."

Emma stilled, her hand against the nearest chair. "What did you say?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

"It's a shame," Walsh replied, "you were almost interesting."

Horrified, she watched as his features began to shift. His eyes flashed red and Emma stepped back. A cloud of red-gray smoke surrounded Walsh. Emma covered her mouth and when the smoke cleared, a gray beast with wings had taken Walsh's place.

The creature let out a shrill howl, its wings spread wide, knocking over displays as it took flight. 

"Oh you've got to be kidding me." Emma ducked as it gained height, arms instinctively covering her head. She grabbed the back of a chair and swung it towards the beast. 

The creature swiped at Emma with clawed fingers but she stood her ground, using the chair to keep distance between them. The front door opened with a slam and Hook stood silhouetted in the doorway. Distracted, the creature changed direction and flew towards the front window. Before Emma or Hook could react, it flew through the window, sending shards of glass onto the street.

Car horns blared as the creature stumbled into the street before regaining its balance and taking flight. Emma followed quickly. She grabbed Hook's left arm, pulling him onto the sidewalk. "Come on," she snapped, breaking into a run. He followed without question. 

They rounded the corner quickly, not slowing down until they had covered two more blocks. Emma slowed down beside a large building, the ornate facade and temporary scaffolding providing cover from the street. 

"What the hell was that?" Hook asked.

"A reminder," she replied grimly, "that I wasn't ever really done with magic."

\----

Emma slammed her front door open, yanked off her coat, dropped her purse. She stomped down the hall and into the kitchen, boots loud against the floor. Hook closed the door and stared at the column of locks before flicking them shut.

She pulled a bottle from one of the cabinets and two glasses from a shelf. Hook took the bottle from her, curling it against his body to unscrew the top. She leaned against the island as he poured them each a large portion of whiskey. Emma picked up the glass with a shaking hand.

Hook tilted his glass towards Emma and she reluctantly tapped it. She swallowed deeply, the whiskey burning her throat pleasantly. When she replaced her glass, Emma felt like she could breathe again.

Hook placed his glass onto the counter. "That was..."

Emma held up her hand, "don't say it." She took another sip, swallowing quickly. Anything he might say would sound like 'I told you so'. It was one thing to be wrong, but to be wrong so spectacularly was something else entirely. 

She was furious with herself, with Walsh and Hook, with whoever was moving her around like a chess piece. Emma clutched her glass tightly. "What was that thing?”

Hook shrugged, "I don't know."

"You're pretty useless." 

“I’m not a zoo keeper,” he retorted.

Emma let out a sigh. “I guess not.” She took a sip of her drink, suddenly glad Henry was spending the night with his friend Avery. She wondered how he knew about zoos, but that was a conversation for another (and hopefully less weird) day.

Hook pulled out a stool, his own glass nearly empty. “Swan?”

“Hmm?” Emma bent her left leg over her right, leaning down to unzip her boot. Hook leaned forward and glanced appreciatively at her exposed cleavage.

"What will you tell the boy?"

"Henry?" Emma dropped her other boot onto the floor, bare feet pressed against the tile. "I don't know. Not the truth."

"He wouldn't believe you?" Hook poured more whiskey into her glass and then his own.

"That Captain Hook came to New York so I could rescue my parents, who happen to be Snow White and Prince Charming, from another evil curse that may or may not involve the Evil Queen?" She frowned, "Sure, that sounds really plausible. I'll ask him if he believes there's a White Rabbit who can take him to Wonderland while I'm at it."

"I don't know about a white rabbit," Hook said, setting his glass onto the table, "but a portal will get you to Wonderland."

Emma swallowed a laugh, certain she was fall into hysterics if she let herself. Nothing made sense. If yesterday had been a really good dream, today was an episode of the Twilight Zone. She swayed slightly, too tired to continue the conversation.

"Are you hungry?" Emma opened the refrigerator, "we have leftovers."

Hook frowned, "I don't like the sound of those."

She stacked white paper containers on the center island. "Where’s your sense of adventure?"

Hook picked up the closest carton and sniffed it. "What is this?"

"Fried rice. You'll like it." She handed Hook a plate. “Maybe.”

"I don't know what that is," Hook answered, putting a fork into the counter.

“So what,” Emma asked, scooping food onto her plate. "Go on," she urged him as she put her plate into the microwave.

Hook stared at the microwave and Emma laughed. “It’s cooking the food,” she explained. He came around the island and leaned closer to the silver box, clearly fascinated.

The microwave beeped shrilly and Hook stepped backwards, nearly tripping over Emma’s feet. “Steady,” she said, one hand against his back.

"Swan."

Suddenly conscious of their close proximity, Emma withdrew her hand and maneuvered her plate out of the microwave. “Give me yours.”

Hook passed her the plate and watched Emma press the keypad. She spun on her heel, her lower back pressed against the counter.

He studied her heaping piles of food. “What is this?”

“Something you won’t get at Granny’s,” she replied. “Trust me.”

The microwave beeped for the second time and Emma pulled out Hook’s plate. “Grab the drinks.”

Hook tucked the bottle against his chest, the glasses clutched in his right hand. Emma stuck a fork on each plate and followed him to the table. She swayed slightly as she moved, a combination of alcohol and sore feet.

They ate quietly, Hook occasionally lifting a vegetable or piece of meat closer for examination. When their plates were nearly empty, Emma leaned back with a heavy sigh.

“That was good,” she said, reaching for the bottle. “Another?”

Hook extended his glass with a smirk. Emma’s hand was surprisingly steady as she poured, avoiding eye contact. She twisted the cap back onto the bottle with a ragged sigh.

Hook reached across the table. "Emma."

He hadn't used her first name since arriving in New York, but it was just a name. It didn't mean anything.

The expression on his face, a combination of sympathy and something she didn't want to identify, renewed her anger. "Don't look at me like that," she snapped, "I don't need your help."

"Really?" His mouth twisted in disbelief.

"I was happy!" The words exploded in the quiet kitchen. Emma looked stricken at her own confession.

Hook tilted his head slightly. "It was based on lies."

She pressed her hand against her chest, fingers stretched over her collarbone. "But it was a good life. I didn't..."

He waited. 

Emma inhaled loudly. "Forget it. I'm going to take a shower."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that an invitation?"

She stood up slowly, suddenly drained. "We leave in the morning. You can crash here if you want."

Hook waited until her door closed before he reached for his glass. The bottle was nearly full.


	3. Chapter 3

The apartment door slammed closed. “Mom I'm home."

Emma looked up from the frying pan, her head pounding slightly despite her three cups of coffee. "Hey kid, how was Avery's?"

"Good." Henry dropped his backpack on the floor. "So, what happened with Walsh?"

Emma turned down the heat and turned to face Henry. He was sitting at the island, hands spread wide across the counter. "I told him no," she said softly.

"Mom..." Henry's face fell slightly, "I thought you were going to..."

Three bangs on the front door interrupted Henry. He looked towards the door, "were you expecting someone?"

Emma nodded, "yeah. Stir these?"

Henry took Emma's place beside the stove. She crossed the apartment quickly. Hook was leaning against the doorframe. He held out a cardboard coffee cup. "Swan."

Emma took the drink with an appreciative smile. She really loved the coffee guy on the corner, especially today. "Get in here."

He followed her into the kitchen. "Henry, this is Killian. He's an old friend."

"Hello mate." Killian kept his gloved hand close to his body but raised his right hand in a wave.

Henry looked up from the eggs. "Hi. Did you skip bail?"

"No, he’s a client,” Emma answered, “I’ve got a new case.” She took a sip from the takeaway cup, pushing her nearly full mug across the counter towards Killian.

"Okay," Henry answered, more interested in breakfast than anything else. "Can you do this?" he asked Emma, "I need to get ready for school."

She shook her head, “no school today.”

“Huh?” Henry stood beside the island.

"This new case, it's in Maine,” Emma said, spooning the eggs onto a plate, “it might take a while." 

"What about school?"

Emma shrugged, "you can make it up."

"Really?" Henry perked up.

Emma grinned. "So is that a yes?"

"Trip with you and no school? Definitely a yes," Henry answered. 

"Good," Emma said, "because we're leaving as soon as you're packed."

Henry disappeared into his bedroom. Killian pushed the mug away.

"You don't like it?" she asked.

"That is not coffee," he replied. 

She rolled her eyes, "for a guy who lived on a ship for centuries, you're really picky."

"Discerning," he countered, stealing a piece of toast from Henry's abandoned plate. 

\------

The sun had set long before they approached the town line. Emma’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. The car was unbearably quiet; she would have welcomed radio static over the silence. Henry had fallen asleep almost as soon as they had crossed into Maine.

Hook glanced over. "You alright?”

She didn't answer but as they entered town, she exhaled slowly, the tightness in her chest dissipating.

Main Street was deserted. Emma pulled over slowly and turned the key in the ignition. They had stopped twice, each time for less than fifteen minutes, and her leg was cramped from spending hours in the car.

Hook stared out the windshield at the empty street. This was the worst idea he'd ever had, without question. "Now what?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "find Mary Margaret and David."

"What about the boy?"

"You can watch him."

"I have another idea. Get a room from the Widow Lucas. Leave the boy there."

"You know I can hear you, right?" Henry leaned through the seats. 

Emma turned around. "Hey. I thought you were still asleep."

"Are we here?" Henry asked.

"Yup, this is Storybrooke."

"Exciting as ever," Hook grumbled.

Emma jabbed him sharply in the shoulder. "Stop it," she hissed.

"Are we staying here?" Henry asked.

"No." Emma looked towards the storefront below Mary Margaret's loft. "Well yes. But I need to see someone and then we'll find a place to crash. Killian's going to stay with you."

Henry mumbled something in response. Emma pushed open her door, stepped out slowly. The street was deserted, exactly the way she remembered.

Hook opened the passenger door and came around to Emma’s side of the car. He pulled his hook from the bag across his chest and reconnected it with a smile. “Isn’t that better?”

Emma looked through the windows but Henry had his back to them, hunched over his game console. “How are you going to explain that to him?”

Hook shrugged, “your concern, not mine.” He reached out, touching her shoulder gently. Emma caught the hook in her hand, fingers gently curving around the metal.

He stepped closer. “Swan?”

She swallowed hard. “I wanted…”

Headlights interrupted whatever else she was going to say. Emma squinted over Hook’s shoulder. She dropped his hook, stepping into the middle of the road in the path of a familiar truck. Hook leaned against the side of Emma’s car, one hand in his pocket, the other going to his flask.

The truck slowed to a stop in front of Emma. David threw open the driver's door and stepped into the street.

Emma begin explaining the instant he closed the door. "Look, I know this is going to sound-"

"Emma." David’s face brightened.

The passenger door swung open and Mary Margaret's head appeared. "Emma!"

Emma stood motionless in the middle of the road as her parents came closer. Mary Margaret's coat was open and in the streetlight it was clear that a curse wasn't the only surprise in Storybrooke. 

\-----

"You're pregnant." Emma wanted to retreat to the safety of her car. She moved automatically, unable to stop herself from cataloging the other changes in her mother. Mary Margaret beamed with happiness, the embodiment of every pregnancy cliché Emma had ever heard, made worse by the fact that they were standing in the middle of the street.

Emma leaned forward, attempting a hug, trying desperately to smile. "Congratulations," she said quietly. Mary Margaret squeezed her tightly.

The pressure in her chest was nearly unbearable and Emma tried to step away. Bitter words burned her tongue. Before she could duck out of David's hug, a sharp pain in her calf made her pitch forward. 

Hook stepped aside before Mary Margaret or David noticed his close proximity to their daughter. Emma wanted to kick him back, but she focused on her parents with a forced smile, repeating her congratulations. The words already felt hollow.

Mary Margaret touched her stomach with one hand, leaning closer to David. "What are you doing here?"

Emma wanted a drink. She glared at Hook over her shoulder before turning back to her parents. "We need to talk."

"Of course," David answered. "Where's Henry?"

"In the car," Emma replied quietly. Mary Margaret brightened but Emma shook her head. "He doesn't know who you are. He doesn't remember any of this."

"Oh." Mary Margaret's face fell.

Emma hurried to get the words out. "I told him I was working a case. Okay?"

David nodded first, his arm around Mary Margaret. "Of course."

Emma turned back towards the car, trying to come up with the least crazy explanation that Henry might believe. He had abandoned his video game and was pushing open the driver’s side door.

"Henry these are some friends of mine." Emma gestured towards her parents. "Mary Margaret and David."

Henry raised his hand in a wave. "Hi."

They stared back at him. "You're so tall," Mary Margaret said before she could stop herself.

"Have we met?" Henry asked, looking at Emma for reassurance.

Emma nodded, "a long time ago. You were just a baby."

"Oh, okay." Henry looked back at Mary Margaret. "So how do you know my mom?"

This time Emma had an answer ready. "We were roommates for a while."

"Really?" Henry looked around the empty street. "Here?"

"You too," Mary Margaret answered, "just for a little bit."

"Wow." He shrugged, "I don't remember it."

Behind them, Hook cleared his throat loudly. "Swan, we should move along."

“Come up to the loft,” Mary Margaret offered.

Emma nodded in agreement, ignoring the expression on David’s face. "Yeah, okay. Henry grab your backpack."


	4. Chapter 4

The instant the loft door closed behind Emma and her parents, Hook had regretted his instance to accompany them. Swan had taken the boy up to the second level, leaving him with David and Mary Margaret.

The prince was on his third pass through the living room, pacing like a caged tiger. Mary Margaret sat perched in an armchair. Hook leaned against the window ledge, his boots nearly touching the white carpet.

“Do you remember anything?” Mary Margaret asked softly.

Hook shook his head. “We parted ways soon after our return. I’m afraid I don’t know much about what you lot did.”

“How soon?” David asked as he began his fourth pass around the room.

“The same day,” Hook answered.

David’s mouth twisted into a scowl. 

Emma’s feet were loud on the metal steps as she climbed down from the second level. They all looked over as Emma stepped off the ladder. 

Mary Margaret smiled at Emma. "Is Henry okay?"

Emma nodded, "he's good." She crossed her arms over her ribs. "Hook said you don't remember anything."

David nodded in confirmation. 

Mary Margaret leaned back against the cushions. "I remember you and Henry leaving."

"When?" Emma's voice rose sharply. 

"Two days ago," Mary Margaret replied. She shook her head, "at least two days in my head." Her right hand rested on the swell of her stomach, "clearly it was longer."

"Little more than a year," Hook replied, his rough voice out of place in the familiar living room. 

They all turned towards him. "Are you sure?" David insisted.

Emma leaned forward, "he's right. That's how long it was for me."

When her parents turned towards each other, Emma offered Hook a tight smile. He relaxed slightly, crossing his arms, but his eyes were fixed on Emma.

“Sit,” Mary Margaret prompted Emma.

The room was too small; Emma needed air. She clenched her right hand into a tight fist, fingernails digging into her palm, and sat down on the couch.

David pulled a kitchen chair close to Mary Margaret. “Where were we going?” Mary Margaret directed her question at Hook. 

“The queen’s castle.”

“Where did you go?” Emma didn’t turn around, asking her question while staring blankly at the carpet.

He stepped away from the window, dropping onto the sofa roughly. “To find my ship.”

“That’s convenient,” David muttered.

Emma look up at Mary Margaret. "What do you remember?”

“Saying goodbye to you and Henry. And then waking up here…back or maybe we never left.”

"Is anything else different?"

"I've got a scar on my leg I've never seen before," David added.

"Anything else?" Emma crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back against the cushions.

"Red's hair," Mary Margaret added, "it's nearly all grown out. No more streaks."

"What about the lost boys? Are they older?"

Mary Margaret frowned, "I don't know. Maybe?"

Emma grimaced, "what about August...I mean Pinocchio? Or Jefferson's daughter?"

"What's your sudden interest in kids?" Hook asked.

Emma whirled to face him, furious at him for being so smug, for bringing her here, for not warning her that everything had changed. "Because it's easier to tell if they've aged than adults. Right?"

He shrugged. Emma wanted to toss his hook out the window. 

"But does it matter?" Mary Margaret reached out towards Emma. "You're back."

Emma tucked her chin, "yeah."

"How did you know to come back?" Mary Margaret asked.

"I didn't. Hook found me."

David looked stricken. "How did you find her?"

"A bird landed on my ship with a message to find Emma." Hook looked over at Mary Margaret, "with a memory potion affixed to its leg."

"Who was it from?"

"I assumed you," Hook replied.

David looked at his wife, "it does sound like you."

She frowned, "okay, I'll buy that. But how did you get to Emma? Regina said this realm was closed."

Hook studied his boots, "it's a tale for another day."

Emma let it slide for the second time. Clearly there was a story he didn't want to share with any of them. She yawned loudly, not bothering to cover her mouth.

Mary Margaret noticed and looked at the wall clock. “It’s late,” she said to no one in particular, “maybe we should start fresh tomorrow.”

Emma stood up quickly. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

“You can stay here,” Mary Margaret offered. David glared at Hook, but Emma shook her head.

“Granny’s should be empty.” Emma pointed towards the staircase, “otherwise Henry’ll really think something’s not right.”

Hook snorted, “that’s quite the understatement, lass.”

Mary Margaret braced herself on the chair’s arms and stood up slowly. David stepped beside her, one hand around her shoulders. “Emma’s right,” Mary Margaret said. “Breakfast tomorrow at Granny’s?”

Hook and David frowned.

“Sounds good,” Emma said, leaning over the staircase. “Henry, you awake?” Henry muttered something unintelligible and Emma chuckled. “Come on, we’re heading out.”

\---

Ruby came around the check-in counter, eyes wide in disbelief. “Emma?”

“Yeah.” Emma wasn’t expecting the tight hug and she was glad Henry was still outside with Hook.

“What are you doing here?” Ruby asked, stepping backwards. The front door swung open, banging loudly into the wall. Both women looked over at the foyer as Henry crossed the threshold.

“Sorry,” he said to Emma, dropping the duffel bag onto the carpet. Ruby smiled broadly but he only gave her a polite half-smile. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Ruby replied, recovering quickly. She returned behind the counter. “So you need one room?”

“Two,” Emma answered. The door slammed behind Hook.

Ruby looked between Emma and Hook. “Okay,” she said slowly, “two it is.”

Henry walked over to stand beside Emma, still wearing his backpack. “Do you live here?” he asked Ruby, studying the exposed beams overhead and the faded floral wallpaper.

She nodded, “me and my grandmother.”

“There’s really a Granny?” Henry asked in disbelief.

Ruby smiled, “yeah. Come to breakfast tomorrow. She makes a mean omelet.”

Emma accepted the silver key from Ruby with a grateful smile. She tossed it to Henry. “Why don’t you head up?” she suggested.

He moved over to the staircase, retrieving the bag as he passed by.

Hook deposited the two bags onto the floor beside Emma’s feet. Ruby’s eyebrows came together. “Never thought we’d see you here again,” she told the pirate.

“Likewise,” he replied with a smirk that made Emma want to abandon him in the entryway.

“Do you remember anything?” Ruby pressed.

Emma frowned, already tired of the same conversation. “Can we do this later? Tomorrow?”

Ruby nodded, sliding a second key across the counter towards Emma. “That’s for your room.” She plucked another key from the wall and gave it to Hook. “And here’s yours.”

He pocketed the key. Hook pulled a leather pouch from his vest and tossed it to Ruby. She caught it easily.

Emma sputtered in protest. Ignoring her, Ruby placed the pouch in her pocket. “Do you want something to eat? There’s leftover pecan pie.”

Emma turned towards the stairs. “No. I’m good.”

Hook bent down and picked up the bags. Ruby jerked her chin towards the stairs. “What’s wrong Hook, did you forget the way?”

Ruby waited until he was midway up the stairs before leaning towards Emma. “You remember?”

Emma nodded, “yeah.”

“How?”

“Memory potion.”

“What about Henry?” Ruby’s face was pale in the dim light.

“Hook only had enough for me.”

Ruby’s lips twitched. “So he _found you_.”

Emma tightened her fist around the key, the ornate metal designs digging into her palm. “Don’t. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Ruby laughed under her breath. “Sure. That’s why he smells like your shampoo.”

Emma grimaced, “night Ruby.”

“Welcome back,” Ruby called at Emma’s retreating figure.

\----

Hook sat on the edge of the bed and surveyed his room. Low lights burned on the walls. He might not understand the magic but it was convenient. The boarding house was quiet. Emma had taken her bag in the hallway, leaving him no reason to avoid retiring to his room.

He could still feel New York's rough energy. The city's pulse had curled beneath his skin and made him feel decades younger. Hook swore quietly. He should have stayed on his ship.

His coat was draped over an armchair, his flask just out of reach. Hook stood up to retrieve it, but was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He crossed the room quickly, the doorknob warm against his palm.

Emma stood in the hallway. "Were you asleep?" she asked, stepping inside when he shook his head.

The sound of the latch against the strike plate was louder than it should have been. Emma hesitated near the foot of the bed before tossing her phone onto the comforter. His room was slightly different - notably the single bed rather than two twins. Henry had taken the one closer to the window, dirty clothes in a heap beside the zipped duffel bag. Emma had considered unpacking or taking a shower, rejecting both options before admitting she was too wired to sleep. Instead she found herself sneaking out of her room like a teenager. Her traitorous feet had stopped in front of Hook’s door – it had been too easy to read the upside-down number on his key.

Hook stood at the foot of the bed. "Problem?"

Emma pulled off her shoes, "no." She pushed the decorative pillows closer to the head of the bed and sat down slowly. The mattress was lumpy but comfortable. She relaxed against the headboard with an appreciative sigh.

"Comfortable?" Hook swept his hand over the open expanse of mattress, "there's plenty more room."

“Shut up.”

Hook moved to the opposite side of the bed and sat beside Emma, his legs stretched towards the door. She glanced at his feet, lips twitching into a half-smile. "You're barefoot."

He raised an eyebrow, "so are you."

“I know. It’s just…different.”

Hook glanced sideways. "Say the word darling and I'll remove anything you like."

It was easy to fall into the familiar steps again, Emma thought, trading flirtatious words without effort.  
She traced the comforter with her left hand, index finger painting an invisible trail over the paisley swirls. "Aren’t you cold?"

Without waiting for an answer, she swung her legs onto the floor, toes curling. She crossed the room towards the radiator, bending down to adjust the knobs. Hook stared at the curve of her back. The radiator let out a loud clang and Emma stood up with a triumphant smile. "There," she said, putting her phone on the nightstand before climbing back onto the bed. 

The radiator hissed and clattered. Hook leaned across Emma, "should it sound like that?"

"It's fine," she snapped. Emma rubbed her thumb roughly against the back of her hand. "Why did you come back?"

He frowned, "there was nothing for me in the other realm."

"Hook…"

"What are you doing here, Emma?" He touched her bare foot with his hand.

Emma's pulse was loud in her ears. "Did you know about Mary Margaret?"

"No." He struggled against the impulse to inquire about her well-being. She didn't need his pity.

She pulled her foot away. "I should go back. Make sure Henry's okay."

"What about your..." Hook gestured towards her phone on the nightstand.

"Cellphone," Emma supplied.

"Right. Wouldn't he use that to reach you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Then stay."

Emma shifted her position, scooting down the bed until she was lying on her side, one arm beneath under her head, facing Hook. “He had a life.”

“Who?” Hook glanced down, meeting her eyes.

“Henry. He had this whole life in New York. Friends. School.” A muscle along Hook’s jaw was steadily clenching and unclenching. Emma watched it from her uncomfortable vantage point.

“He has that here.”

“I guess,” she admitted quietly. Emma flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "Two days ago I was Henry's mom. And now..."

She looked sideways at Hook. “Two days with you and my whole life’s upside down.”

He studied the top of her head, chose his words carefully. “This is my fault?”

"Yeah. No." She exhaled loudly. “You were right. Regina’s magic did a crazy number on me. I had all these memories about my life, with Henry, but none of it’s real. It felt real,” she admitted quietly. “Keeping him. Raising him. Seeing his first steps.” Tears burned her eyes and Emma was glad she wasn’t looking at Hook. “His first word was bus.” She frowned, “I don’t even know if that’s real or something Regina picked out of thin air.”

She stopped talking abruptly, her eyebrows pinched together. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Course you do,” he growled. “Your boy’s real. So are your parents.”

“Yeah. Like that’s not complicated.”

“The hell it is,” Hook retorted, suddenly furious. “You’re making it complicated. So you can run without feeling guilty.”

“What would you know about that?” Emma sat up suddenly, nearly head-butting Hook’s shoulder, “you’re alone!”

He grimaced. “I am.”

She shook her head, “I didn’t mean...”

“Course you did.”

Emma tucked her legs under her body, one hand on the mattress. “Killian.”

"What about your gentleman? You didn’t mention him to the Prince.”

Emma frowned at the sudden change of topic. “Why would I?”

He shrugged, “no reason.”

She pressed forward, her knees nearly colliding with his side on the lumpy mattress. “Are you jealous?"

Hook's expression was murderous. "Leave it Swan.”

“No.” She poked his shoulder, eyebrows raised expectantly, an almost smile teasing the corners of her mouth.

Hook caught her hand, his thumb tracing the ridge of her knuckles gently. "Perhaps," he allowed.

She smiled. "Good."


	5. Chapter 5

"Mom why didn't you ever tell me about this place?"

Emma looked up from the notepad braced over her knees. "I don't know. It slipped my mind."

"Mom!"

She set the notepad aside, "Henry I didn't know what to tell you. It's a complicated part of my life."

He sat on the foot of her bed. "When were you here? After..."

She nodded, "yeah. After Phoenix. I came here, stayed with Mary Margaret for a while."

"How long?"

"About a year," she answered.

"You could have told me." Henry touched the back of Emma's notepad.

"I meant to," she said honestly, "I never tried to keep it from you, but you were too young before."

"Really?" Henry's smirk made him look older (and a bit too much like her).

"Hey, I don't like you taking the subway," she jabbed back. She spread her hands wide. "I screwed up kid. What else can I say?"

Henry's frown softened, "it's just weird. These people know you."

"People in New York know us."

"The bodega guy doesn't count," Henry replied. 

Emma swung her feet onto the floor. Her eyes felt gritty; the lack of sleep was catching up to her steadily. She needed coffee.

"I'm heading down," she told Henry, "you coming?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll meet you."

"Go towards the red wolf painting," she said, "it's a shortcut."

Emma made her way down the hall without stopping at Killian's door. He could find his own way to breakfast. She descended the back stairs towards diner, nearly colliding with Regina who was coming out of the restroom. Emma steadied herself, gripping the banister tightly.

"Miss Swan." Regina looked horrified, confused and still too haughty for Emma's liking. "What are you doing here?"

"This is a neat shortcut," Henry said, barreling down the stairs. He stopped abruptly beside Emma.

"Hello," he said to Regina. 

Her mouth dropped open. Emma pushed Henry gently towards the diner, "go get us a table."

Regina watched Henry walk away, her mouth a tight crimson line. When he was out of earshot, she rounded on Emma, "what's he doing here?"

"What are you all doing here?" Emma retorted, "you're supposed to be back."

"And you should be in New York."

Emma's forehead crinkled, "why there anyway?"

Regina waved her hand, dismissing the question. "You remember."

"Yeah. Hook brought memory potion."

"What about Henry?" Regina gestured towards the entrance to the diner.

Emma shook her head, "there wasn't enough."

Regina exhaled, shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted and for the briefest moment Emma pitied the Mayor.

"Any idea who did this?"

Regina recovered quickly, "are you asking as Sheriff, or as your parent's daughter?"

"Does it matter?"

Hook was nearly as loud as Henry on the staircase. "Ladies," he said with a nod, brushing past them. Over Regina's shoulder, he winked at Emma.

"What about this new curse, any clue who cast it?" It felt good to press someone for information, without worrying that she was being rude. 

"It wasn't me, if that's what you're suggesting."

 Emma shook her head, "I wasn't."

Regina crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh." Curiosity overruled and she asked the question Emma had been waiting to answer. "Why?"

Emma shrugged. "Because you wouldn't wipe your own memory. You wouldn't willingly give up that advantage,"

"Very perceptive, Miss Swan," Regina admitted begrudgingly. "I don't suppose you have any ideas?"

Emma pulled a folded up paper from her pocket, "a few. Pretty much all I could come up. Any of these ring a bell?"

Regina skimmed the list. "I know some of these women. This is it?"

"Like I said, it was short notice. And it's not like I'm an encyclopedia of fairy tale villains."

"Henry would know." Regina passed the list back to Emma.

Emma nodded, "yeah, but I can't....is Belle around?"

"Should be. Try the library."

"We should get everyone together," Emma said with a confidence she didn't feel, "see what they know."

"A town meeting, how quaint."

"Tonight at seven," Emma insisted.

Regina nodded. "Fine." She twisted her wrist, "I need to be going."

"Regina?" The other woman turned. Emma clenched her left hand into a tight fist at her side, "you should introduce yourself to Henry."

Regina's smile was brief. "Perhaps I will."

Emma counted to fifty before she followed. Standing at the back of the diner, Emma looked out over the familiar display of people moving about their normal morning in Storybrooke lives.

Henry was sitting closest to the door, facing the restaurant, talking to her parents. She hesitated, catching sight of Hook at the counter.

Emma slipped onto the stool beside her, hoping his shoulders would hide her long enough to drink one cup of coffee.

"All well lass?"

Emma gestured at the mug, "did you put anything in there?"

"Not yet." He pushed it towards Emma.

She wrapped both hands around the mug, gulping the coffee down as though her life depended on draining the cup. Three swallows later, eyes watering and cheeks flushed, she passed the empty mug back to Hook.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Where's the list?"

"Huh?" Emma turned towards him with a scowl.

"List," he repeated.

"Morning," Ruby said, placing a second mug in front of Emma.

Emma accepted the coffee with a grateful smile. "You're my favorite person," she told Ruby enthusiastically.

Ruby quirked an eyebrow but Emma avoided her gaze. "Want anything else?" Ruby asked Hook.

"We're having breakfast with my parents," Emma replied before he could answer, ignoring how easily 'we' slipped out.

"You're having breakfast," he corrected.

"Yell if you get hungry," Ruby said. She disappeared behind the kitchen door.

Emma rested her arms on the counter. "I told Regina to call a meeting tonight. I can't run around town knocking on doors."

Hook took a long swallow from his now-full cup. "And in the meantime?"

"I’ll find Belle. See if she can help. What are you going to do?"

"Cross people off your list."

"You don't want to have breakfast with my parents." Emma jabbed his shoulder.

"List," he prompted for the third time.

Resigned, she pulled it out of her pocket. "Here," Emma said, shoving the list into his hand, "but we're not done with this conversation."

"Are we ever?" He ducked out of reach before she could punch his shoulder.

Emma flipped her hair over her shoulders as she slid off the stool. She crossed the diner quickly. Mary Margaret and David smiled as she sat beside Henry. "Morning," Mary Margaret said. "Henry said you were already working?"

Emma gestured towards the counter, "just wanted to check in with Killian. You know, since it's his case I'm working." Emphasis on the word case. Emma raised her eyebrows at Mary Margaret for confirmation, but David answered first. 

"Right," David said, nodding slowly. "The case. How's it coming?"

"Slow." Emma turned to Henry, "did you order?"

"Not yet." He gestured at his half-empty mug, "the woman from yesterday makes hot chocolate like you."

"Cinnamon," Emma asked with a smile.

Henry nodded. "How'd she know?"

Before Emma could answer, Ruby placed an enormous cup of coffee in front of Emma. "You forgot this. And you look like a cinnamon kind of kid," she told Henry.

"Do you know what you want to eat?" David asked Emma.

She nodded. "You're up," Emma prompted Henry.

"Pancakes," he told Ruby. "Please."

"Regular? There's a whole list on the back. Or Granny can surprise you."

"Like what?"

Ruby thought for a beat, "like m&m and blueberry. Or chocolate chips and marshmallow."

Henry's eyes lit up. "Chocolate and marshmallow," he confirmed.

"Okay. Emma?"

"Chocolate chip," Emma told Ruby. "And bacon."

Ruby turned to Mary Margaret. "You ready?" David sipped his coffee. Mary Margaret had been frowning over the menu for nearly five minutes. "Can I have Monday's omelet?"

"The special one? Sure." Much to Granny's dismay, only Mary Margaret had ordered that special; she had been more than happy to keep making it. Emma wanted to ask about it, but David shook his head, "you don't want to know. Trust me."

Ruby grinned, "what about you?"

"Two eggs over medium. And wheat toast."

When she had gone, Henry turned to Emma. "You didn't tell me you knew the mayor."

Emma swallowed quickly. "Regina? Yeah. Small town," she said with a shrug, hoping the half-explanation would satisfy Henry.

"Cool."

David set down his coffee. "Henry, what do you say after breakfast, I give you a tour of the town?" Henry hesitated. "Or we could hang out at the station while your mom works," David offered.

Henry perked up, "are you a cop?"

"Sheriff. Deputy actually."

"Where's the regular sheriff?"

"Had to take care if a family thing," David answered.

Mary Margaret sipped her tea. "You look tired," she said quietly to Emma, her voice low. Oblivious, Henry and David continued their conversation.

Emma shrugged off the concern. "Long drive."

Hook appeared at the head of their table, too perfectly timed to deny he had been listening to their conversation. He nodded at Mary Margaret before focusing on Emma. "Swan."

"Jones." He smirked. "You're good," she asked.

"Aye. We'll rendezvous..."

"Later." Emma picked up her coffee mug. Mary Margaret frowned but didn't say anything.

Henry stared at Hook: the glove on his left hand had been replaced with a silver hook, but he was still wearing the long leather coat and strange vest. "Why are you wearing that?" Henry asked.

"Why are you wearing that?" Hook retorted.

Emma glared at Hook. "Weren't you going?"

"Fine." The door slammed behind Hook, blinds rattling with the force.

"Everything okay?" David asked.

Emma tried to smile. "Yeah. Just great."

"How'd he lose his hand?" The three adults looked at Henry.

Mary Margaret recovered first. "It's his story," she said, her tone school teacher perfect.

Henry looked at Emma. Too tired to deflect, she raised her eyebrows. "You want to know?" Henry's head bobbed up and down quickly. "Okay, he's really Captain Hook. The crocodile is actually a person who cut off his hand in a battle. But now he's stuck here because there are no more magic beans to travel between worlds."

David and Mary Margaret stared anxiously at Henry. The diner noise felt amplified as they waited for him to react. Henry burst out laughing, as if Emma had told the funniest joke in history. He scowled at Emma.

"Mom," he lamented, dragging the last syllable to an almost-whine, "that's the worst lie ever. At least make it believable."

Mary Margaret let out a sigh, disappointed and relieved. David snickered, stopping abruptly when his wife kicked him under the table.

Emma shrugged, "you asked. So you going to go with David?"

"I can't stay here?"

"Nope," she replied with a mischievous smile, "but you've got choices: help me research. Or go with Mary Margaret and move furniture. Isn't this better than school?"

Before Henry could answer, Ruby returned with full plates. His eyes widened at the stack of pancakes Ruby placed in front of him. "These are awesome," he proclaimed enthusiastically, grabbing his fork.

David shuddered as Henry poured syrup over his pancakes. "You want more coffee?" Emma asked with a smile. 

Henry passed the syrup to Emma who covered her pancakes and bacon. David's eyes got even wider.

Mary Margaret laughed softly. "Who's going to crash first?"

"Mom," Henry replied from around his mouthful of pancake. He gulped down a sip of hot chocolate. "Definitely."

"Hey!" Emma reached her fork over and snagged a bite of Henry's pancake. She had to give the kid credit, he knew how to pick breakfast foods.

Ruby looked across the counter towards the first booth, pleased to see Snow's family together. "Ruby!" Granny's exasperated voice cut through the clatter of dishes and hum of voices. She rolled her eyes; some things never changed.


End file.
